


gotta be some butterflies somewhere

by cynical_optimist



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 02, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 11:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13523163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_optimist/pseuds/cynical_optimist
Summary: Amanda nods back, then turns to leave, calling over her shoulder, “Text me!”Then she’s gone, and Farah is alone in her room with a girl’s number and a still-aching side, lungs tight and sore. She should maybe call a nurse about that. Anxiety and near-fatal wounds aren’t the best combination, she’s pretty sure.-Farah is terrible at texting and Amanda just wants a cute girl's number.





	gotta be some butterflies somewhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niuniujiaojiao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niuniujiaojiao/gifts).



> Crystal!! My dear daughter and friend, happy birthday! I think (?) this is the third birthday I've known you for, and in the now-established tradition, I've written you a fic. This was supposed to be longer, but I looked at what I had planned and the time I had left and decided to cut it down; I may end up continuing it at some point or another, but you know my track record with that lol.
> 
> I took a short break from this fandom but this may be my return; we'll see if I ever get around to the prompts in my inbox as evidence of that. Thanks muchly to [Kathi](https://www.hotchocolatenthusiast.tumblr.com) and [Lauren](https://www.call-this-a-mask.tumblr.com) for looking over this for me- you're the best! Title from dodie's Would You Be So Kind.

Amanda visits Farah exactly once in the hospital, the day before the Rowdy Three are set to leave. Farah’s sitting on her bed, feeling achy and already exhausted from her short walk outside, and Tina and Hobbs haven’t come back in yet.

She stands at the foot of the bed, looking out of place and totally in command of the room, and Farah’s eyes inevitably return to her, no matter where else she looks. That’s a new haircut, isn’t it? New-ish? Farah’s pretty sure Amanda had a whole scalp full of hair last time they properly spoke, not that this doesn’t look amazing. It’s badass, and gorgeous—though Farah’s almost certain anything Amanda does will look gorgeous.

“So I’m pretty sure you’re the only sensible person in your detective agency,” Amanda says after the obligatory hello-and-how-are-you’s, which Farah hadn’t thought she bothered with, hands in her jacket pockets. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being un-sensible.” She grins at that, bright and wide and a little dangerous.

“No, of course not,” Farah says. “Though, you know, it does make paperwork and all of that a little more difficult…” She frowns as soon as she says the words. “God, that was—”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with paperwork, but I believe you.” Amanda clears her throat, steps forward. “Anyway, I was just going to say that Dirk uses his phone practically  _ never _ and Todd still panics over me calling like I’m ten, so I thought you might be the person to go to for updates?”

Farah’s not sure that’s true, about Todd, but she also doesn’t know where their relationship is right now so she won’t comment. “Oh, sure,” she says instead, and wonders if it came across as too enthusiastic.

Amanda smiles again, less dangerous. “Great,” she says, and pulls a slip of paper from her pocket. “When you get a new phone, text me. Or—call me. You know, whatever.”

Taking the slip of paper, Farah nods.  “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Her heart beats up into her throat, and seems to thump against her thorax. “That’s – great, yeah. So, updates on the agency?”

Amanda shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Or anything else. Cool shit. Whenever you want to chat.” Her hand shifts toward Farah for a moment, then falls back to her side, and she tucks it into her pocket. Farah wonders what she was going to do, whether she was planning on—what? Touching her? Taking back the paper? Shaking her hand?

“Yeah, no problem,” Farah says. “As soon as I get my phone.”

“Great,” Amanda says again, then nods. “Well, the Three are outside waiting, so I should get going. Good luck with, like, the bullet wounds and shit.”

“Thanks,” Farah nods. “Good luck with the search.”

She nods back, then turns to leave, calling over her shoulder, “Text me!”

Then she’s gone, and Farah is alone in her room with a girl’s number and a still-aching side, lungs tight and sore. She should maybe call a nurse about that. Anxiety and near-fatal wounds aren’t the best combination, she’s pretty sure.

Farah takes a look at the paper. At the top is a number, as promised, and right under, in scrawled handwriting,  _ Get well soon! _ It’s a little bumpy, like it wasn’t written against a totally flat surface, and Farah reads over it once more before folding it carefully and placing it on her bedside table.

“Oh my god,” Tina says, at the door, Hobbs close behind her. She’s half-hanging off a nurse and looking over her shoulder. “I’m so fucking bi for Amanda Brotzman. Was she just in here?”

“She just stopped in,” Farah answers. “How was the rest of your walk?”

“I’m not in too much pain yet, so that’s something.” She turns to the nurse. “That’s something, right?”

Farah tunes out of the conversation, turning her attention back to the little slip of paper on her bedside table. She’ll text Amanda as soon as she gets her phone, she’s decided. That’s definitely something  she can do.

-

Farah does not text Amanda as soon as she gets her phone, nor does she have any sort of excuse for it.

It’s just—Todd didn’t bring her a new one until a couple of days after Amanda had left, and then she’d spent another couple of days agonising over what to text, and by then it was too late to just message her casually?

Really, what’s she supposed to say at this point?  _ Haha, got my phone a few days ago, forgot to text you! _ Maybe it would work better if she used  _ lol _ instead of  _ haha _ —that’s the sort of nuance that Lydia would always complain to her about when she texted older people.

Does Farah count as older people, to a sixteen year old?

She probably does, god.

The point is, though, that she’s definitely going to text Amanda at some point, it’s just that it’s been far too long and she doesn’t know what to say. They’ve just gotten a new case, too, so it’s not like she has the time to spend hours agonising over texts.

It occurs to her that cases like this are maybe the sort of thing Amanda wants updates about, but again, she’s not sure how to phrase it. It’s not like she can go to anyone about it—things are still awkward with Lydia after disappearing on her for months, Dirk never uses his phone, Todd would look at her strangely for even asking, and Tina would read more into it than the situation grants. She’s anxious, not gay.

Well, she is gay. But not for Amanda Brotzman. Not that she doesn’t think she’s attractive, or wouldn’t date her if she asked. But Amanda is most likely straight, statistically, since Todd is bi and the chances that both of them aren’t straight are pretty low.

Tina would definitely think it’s a crush thing, which it’s not. It’s just a  _ Farah-hates-asynchronous-communication _ thing.

Todd is definitely in contact with her, anyway, so it doesn’t matter, and she shouldn’t waste so much time thinking about it.

Except,  _ Todd is in contact with Amanda _ , and that means that she speaks to him about Farah, apparently.

“Hey,” Todd says, out of the blue while they’re searching an honest to god forest for a cave that might hold a map to an honest to god secret treasure trove. Dirk’s about fifteen feet away from them, peering behind a tree, but Todd has his voice pitched low, like he doesn’t want to be overheard. “I was chatting to Amanda the other day, and she mentioned that you haven’t texted her? I didn’t know you had her number.”

Farah almost stumbles over a root, steadies herself and pretends it never happened. “She did?” she says, hand straying to her phone in her pocket.

Todd looks a little concerned, and she wonders if he’s keeping his voice low because he thinks  _ she  _ doesn’t want it to be overheard. “Yeah, it was in passing, but she seemed pretty bummed.”

“Oh, okay.” She grips her phone in her pocket. “I’ve just been, you know, busy with the case, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! I mean, if you want I can give her your number, and—”

“No that’s okay! I mean, I can text her now.” Farah takes her phone out, unlocking it.

“I mean, you don’t have to feel, like, obligated or anything. Just—so you know. You know?”

“Yeah, okay.” Farah nods, putting her phone back away. She glances over at Dirk, who’s even further away now. “I’ll definitely text her.”

“Great,” Todd says, exactly the way that Amanda does, and Farah forces back a fond smile. His eyes stray from her, off to the side where she’d last spotted Dirk. “So, do you think this is something the universe is guiding Dirk on, or are we just stumbling around aimlessly on the off chance we’ll find something?”

“Hey!” Dirk calls, and when Farah looks for him he’s out of sight. “I think I found the cave!”

“Guess it’s the former,” Farah mutters, and she and Todd make their way over, toward the voice.

-

After—when they’ve returned to the agency and their respective apartments, covered in cobwebs and dirt and whatever else was down there, Farah pulls out her phone again. Flipping it over once in her hands, she turns it on, unlocks it.

It shouldn’t be so difficult to do this, she knows, but it would be far simpler to just check her emails or turn the phone right back off. Simpler and more disappointing to Amanda.

If she doesn’t text her now, when will she?

Farah finds Amanda’s contact easily, having saved it almost immediately. She taps on the message icon, and for a few moments the blank space haunts her.

_ Hi _ , she types, then backspaces. Then,  _ Hey, it’s Farah _ . She narrows her eyes at it, then adds a smile.  _ Sorry I didn’t _ —she erases that, pauses.  _ Sorry it took so long. We’re on a case right now, and I don’t think I’ve ever been dirtier in my life. _ No, that’s not right. Updates about the agency, not her personal wellbeing.  _ We’re on a case right now, and Dirk’s pretty optimistic about where it’s going. _ There, that works. Her thumb hovers over the send button for a moment, before she adds,  _ How’s the search going? _

She sends it. There’s a deep, swooping moment of worry, and she stares at the message. Amanda won’t reply immediately; she has better things to do, surely. Things more important than this moment, no matter how it seems to catch at her heart and breath and tongue.

The flash of her phone, no more than thirty seconds after she sent the message, startles her.

_ farah!!! _

_ i was wondering whn u’d text me _

_ the search is going great, we’ve found 2 people already _

_ glad the case is going well _

_ how r u? _

Amanda’s texts come in a flurry, faster than most people can type. Farah feels a smile tugging at her lips, stomach curling warmly, and her thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment. Her heart jumps in her chest but it’s pleasant, exhilarating. It’s triumphant, like winning a fight but softer, like coming across a clue that almost ties a case together. It feels like the start of something.

_ I’m good _ , she replies, and feels in every part of her that she’s telling the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> What this is totally not me projecting my anxiety about texting people onto a similarly anxious character, I don't know what you're talking about.  
> Fun fact! This was titled "disaster gays (tm)" in my docs because both these girls are disasters and I love them. If you want to chat to me about how much you love them, too, come find me on tumblr @boxesfullofthoughts or twitter @lydthethinker.  
> Anyway, Crystal, I love you a lot and I hope this year is brilliant for you


End file.
